


Interrogations

by peaxhtree



Category: Hogan's Heroes (TV 1965)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22975948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peaxhtree/pseuds/peaxhtree
Summary: He has Hogan right where he wants him.
Relationships: Robert Hogan/Wilhelm Klink
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	Interrogations

“What,” Hogan says, “would you say if someone came through the door?”

Klink hadn’t considered that. Hogan came in his office, charming him into believing his lies, like usual...

God, that mouth. Terrible. Awful. He felt like he were in prison, tortured by Hogan. Klink told him to _shut_ _up_ because he couldn’t take it anymore, and to his surprise, Hogan did go quiet, but then he pulled the curtains shut and smiled at him, asked, “What do you want, Kommandant?” and then his hand was in Hogan’s trousers.

“I’d say it’s a new interrogation technique.” Klink thinks it could be successful. He has Hogan right where he wants him. Sitting bare-assed on his desk with his pants and underwear shoved down his thighs, squirming, and he has the most sensitive part of his body tight in his hand. He could keep Hogan from his release until he has answers he wants. Bring him to the edge until he begs for it. Wait until he’s ready to sell out his country in exchange for his dick to be touched.

Although, Hogan demands, _“more,”_ and Klink does, stroking the length of him. Hogan lets out a moan, and then bites down on his lip, as though he hadn’t meant to do that. But it’s too late, he did. The timbre of it went straight to Klink’s groin. Unfortunately, he doesn’t think Hogan will return the favor. He certainly won’t be direct about it as Hogan was. He had said, “You can touch it, or suck it if you want.” He is a man who knows what he wants and how to get it.

Klink just wants. He wants to taste him but he doesn’t want to stop touching him. He wants to taste Hogan’s throat, the pulse point where he’s sweating. He does. Hogan tastes like salt and cheap soap and the sky.

Hogan makes a disgruntled sound, and pushes into his palm. “Yes, alright,” says Klink, and rubs at the head where slick is leaking out.

Hogan is enjoying this.

Again, he thinks of making him beg for it. He likes when Hogan begs for other things — to reconsider punishment, for an extra hour of recreation time, for half of his dinner.

Curious, he slides his grip off of him, rests it on his knee. Hogan doesn’t seem to realize for a moment; he thrusts into the air and when he meets nothing, he looks down at himself where he’s straining upward, and then at Klink. He’s very close — his dick twitches without being touched.

He goes to put his hand on himself but Klink pushes him away. 

“You’re evil,” Hogan says.

“Yes, I am,” replies Klink, and he wraps his hand around him again and jerks him quick and maybe a bit too rough but Hogan makes a lot of very lovely sounds and then he comes in his hand without warning.

Klink tidies up with his handkerchief, and when he goes to toss it in the wastebasket, he folds it and puts it back in his pocket instead. There isn’t a good way to explain that, if it were found.

_“Danke,”_ says Hogan. He seems a little embarrassed. He stands up and adjusts himself, zips up his pants and fastens his belt. Klink feels a bit dazed watching him move. He’s so hard he can’t think properly.

That’s why he ends up being the one who begs.

“Hogan, please—“

Hogan sighs and glances at his watch. As if he has somewhere else to be.

“Alright,” he says, and braces himself with his left hand on the back of Klink’s chair and reaches down with his other. Klink goes to undo his belt but Hogan shakes his head, says, “No time for that.”

It doesn’t really matter, in the end, because it takes only ten seconds of Hogan rubbing him through his pants for him to come in them. It’s sticky and humiliating and he would hate Hogan for it, but Hogan kisses him lightly on the cheek and he forgives him. He can never stay mad at him for too long.

“Maybe next time you interrogate me, I’ll talk,” he says.

“Next time?” asks Klink, but then there’s a knock on his door and he startles so badly he nearly falls out of his chair. Hogan laughs, gives him a lax salute and winks at him and—

Klink has to stay sitting while Schultz gives the afternoon report.


End file.
